


Tainted

by Eileniessa



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, F/M, Poison, Swordfighting, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileniessa/pseuds/Eileniessa
Summary: Red hair held up in a plaited bun and with a band of woven black thread around her head, he recognized Orianna at once, even while her face was buried in the sorceress’ neck.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894447
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Tainted

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploaded from ‘Bloody Entertainment’.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the books by Andrzej Sapkowski, the game series by CD Projekt Red and the TV series by Netflix. I do not claim ownership to any of these characters and have written this fan fiction for entertainment, not financial gain.
> 
> Warning: Major spoilers for the Witcher III, Blood and Wine DLC.

It was dark by the time Geralt arrived in Corvo Bianco, and Toussaint’s unfamiliar stars lit his way as the witcher tended to his horse in the stables.

He hadn’t meant to stay out so late, but he’d gotten distracted on his way back from town. Matilda and Liam had offered him a taste of their first batch of ‘White Wolf’, named in his honour, and it didn’t feel right to refuse a chance to taste himself. With several wine caskets cracked open, they’d passed the time talking about the trade, which Geralt begrudgingly admitted he needed to learn more about considering his and Yennefer’s prospects for their own vineyard. Then, he’d ended up taking a stroll around their vineyards to clear his head and to check no other infestations had cropped up. They hadn’t – he’d done a very thorough job.

When he was satisfied that Roach had everything she needed, Geralt made his way to the main house. There was a dull glow coming from the small window in his and Yennefer’s bedroom, and from beneath the small crack under the front door. He wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t unusual for Yennefer to be up late; she’d always preferred to spend much of her morning in bed and to enjoy the peace and quiet of an empty evening.

As he looked through the small window, wondering what novel or tome Yennefer had her head buried in tonight, he saw a shadow pass fleetingly across glass. When he pushed open the front door, he saw that the door to their room was ajar and he could hear laboured breathing, muffled sounds and something else coming from inside. He could smell blood too.

With his silver sword raised, Geralt stepped sideways into the bedroom and cast a long shadow across the room and upon the face of a woman. Red hair held up in a plaited bun and with a band of woven black thread around her head, he recognized Orianna at once, even while her face was buried in the sorceress’ neck.

She was straddling Yennefer, who was struggling under her, and had her arms pinned by her head When he came in, Orianna looked up and smiled at Geralt with bloodied fangs and bright, ecstatic eyes. There was blood smeared across her chin and pooling on her neck. Her skin, which had a greyish quality, was pulled tightly across her face making her veins pop. Geralt noticed, with disgust, that Orianna looked glad to see him.

Quickly, Geralt made the sign for aard but it wasn’t enough to knock Orianna off the bed. Stunned, the vampire hunkered down so that she was practically lying on top of the sorceress. Blood dripped off the vampire’s chin and onto Yennefer’s shirt as she brought her fangs close to the woman’s neck. For a while, they stared at each other, neither one willing to make the first move in this stalemate.

Then, there was a flash of purple and Orianna recoiled from Yennefer as the blast of magic burnt her face. Geralt cast aard again and though the sign was weaker than before, it succeeded in knocking Orianna off the bed. Sword in one hand, Geralt lunged for Yennefer and pulled her to the other side of the bed as Orianna tried to grab at her. He picked Yennefer up and put her on her feet, then pushed the sorceress through the doorway and onto the floor as Orianna sprang towards them.

Geralt was knocked backwards and into the dresser, and it cracked and splintered under his weight and the force of the blow. Pushing himself up, he tried to slash the vampire’s feet but Orianna had already dashed out into the hallway. She wasn’t interested in him at all which made the stakes of his hunt higher than they had ever been before.

From the doorway, Geralt saw Yennefer scrambling backwards across the floor with one arm raised in front of her. Orianna was stalking after her, shielding her face as she pushed against the sorceress’ weakened magic. With her back turned to him, the witcher tried to thrust his sword through Orianna’s chest, but she sidestepped it, knocking the sword to the floor and throwing him over the dining table and across the room. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and when he hit the stairs, the blow was cushioned. Yennefer had shielded him.

When Geralt had gotten up and moved around the table, Orianna had Yennefer pinned to the wall by her throat. With her fangs bared, Orianna was still smiling.

“Let’s dispense of swords and magic, Geralt. I want to talk,” she said calmly. “Do I have your attention?”

Her eyes were on him, now that she had Yennefer where she needed, and they both knew how easy it would be for the vampire to squeeze the life out of her if she wanted to.

“What do you want, Orianna?”

“I’m sad, Geralt. And lonely too.” Without looking at her, Orianna drew the back of a talon across Yennefer’s cheek. “It’s not fair that you have company here while I’m all alone.”

“Is this about Detlaff?”

“Yes, and Regis too.”

“Let Yen go.”

“No.”

Yennefer, who was already pale from all the blood Orianna had drunk, could barely breathe. She was holding Orianna’s arm loosely and seemed about ready to pass out, though the look on her face was as fierce.

Orianna’s grip tightened. “Look at me when I’m talking, witcher. She’s not going anywhere.”

Geralt did as she asked, he didn’t have a choice. Orianna had the upper hand, and she was relishing every moment of it. As things were, Geralt couldn’t see any way out but to listen and hope that Yennefer was better to Orianna alive than dead.

“Do you know, Geralt, that it’s so rare these days to come across other higher vampires with whom you can find companionship. I had that with Regis and Detlaff and considered myself lucky and better off for it. I had everything I could ever want or need in Toussaint. But now, Detlaff-Detlaff is dead and Regis had to leave, and if I ever saw him again, I’d have to kill him for what he did, naturally.”

“Yea, I get it. I pissed you off, ruined your life, all that shit. So why don’t you come here, and we can settle this. Kill me, if you can.”

Orianna laughed. “But that would be so crude, Geralt. No, I think I’ll take her instead, it seems more fitting, don’t you think? Poetic justice.”

Geralt knew he’d never make it in time. He ran at Orianna without a sword and with no endurance left for signs as she turned her head and fangs towards Yennefer. The sorceress looked helpless, pinned against the wall with her eyes almost in the back of her head. It must have taken Orianna by surprise, then, when Yennefer brought a hand to her face and pushed a silver ring into her left eye.

She let go at once and Yennefer crumbled to the floor. Smoke poured out of Orianna’s damaged eye and her talons seemed to grow with her fury. Geralt tackled her to the floor and tried to stab her in the other eye with the knife he used to cut off trophies, but she caught it as he plunged it towards her face. Holding off the attack with one hand, she tried to claw at his throat with the other, her talons scratching the surface of his skin.

Struggling on the floor with Orianna, Geralt looked for Yennefer. She was already back on her feet, and he called for her to go, to run, but she didn’t move towards the door. He wasn’t sure what she was doing until he saw his sword come crashing down on Orianna’s neck. It wasn’t a clean blow and by the time Yennefer had completely severed the vampire’s head from her body, she had already stopped moving.

Orianna’s blood pooled on the floor and swam around Geralt’s sword as it lay by her head. He was covered in it too, as was Yennefer, but the blood was mostly her own. She was leaning her weight against the edge of the table and had her head down. He could see her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She looked like shit. Her face was pale and bloody, and her eyes were half-closed, but she was alive and when he pulled the matted hair away from her face, he saw two deep holes in her neck which were still oozing blood.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing and stood there with his hand in Yennefer’s hair watching her as she caught her breath. He’d never been so close to losing her before, and he would have if she were any other women; if she hadn’t been so damn fierce and stubborn. She’d saved herself, saved herself from his mistake. He should never have sat around at Corvo Bianco knowing that Orianna was still out there. It had been a foolish and selfish mistake that almost got Yennefer killed.

She was watching him now, but Geralt couldn’t meet her gaze. He felt that maybe he should apologize, but he’d never been very good at that in the past. Not when it came to her.

“Yen,” he started “I-“

“Hush, Geralt. I don’t want to hear it, not now. Just-just hold me. Hold me until I fall asleep, I can feel it coming.”

“I won’t let go, Yen. I love you.”

Geralt sat with Yennefer on the table, her weight pressed comfortingly against his side, until she passed out in his arms. He treated her wounds and washed her skin and hair before leaving her to rest in the spare bedroom.

The majordomo came in to check on them while some of the vineyard workers, who had been woken up by the noise, took away the body and burned it just outside Corvo Bianco’s walls. In the morning, he’d ask for the ashes to be collected, so that he could bury Orianna in an urn deep beneath the mountains. By the time she’d regenerated and clawed her way out, he and Yennefer would be long dead and no vampire would ever find Orianna to speed up her return.

He decided to send for a physician in the morning and to let the Duchess know what had happened. Geralt wanted to tell her that he planned to set out on the path again when Yennefer was better. He needed to know if Detlaff or Regis, or Orianna now, had any other vampiric friends whose life he needed to end. When that was done, and only then, did he feel he’d be able to come back home.

* * *

The fire had only just burned out when Yennefer awoke.

Geralt had been watching it through the window, brooding, when he heard Yennefer’s breath catch in her throat. He saw her eyes open wide, then she leaned over the side of the bed and vomited onto the floor.

She looked dazed and had her arms wrapped around her stomach. Geralt had to wipe her mouth with the washcloth he’d used earlier because she wouldn’t take it from him. When he helped her lie back down, Yennefer curled in on herself. Her face was warm under his fingers and she was shaking all over and struggling to breathe. Geralt could see she was in pain, but he didn’t know why, and Yennefer was too out of it to tell him what was wrong.

With a knife, Geralt cut off Yennefer’s bandages, held her hair to keep it from getting in the wound, and inspected the bite. Like pieces of charred flesh, the skin around the two holes in Yennefer’s neck was dry and blackened, and dark veins were pulsating around the wound. The dressing was coated in blood that was so thick and dark it almost wasn’t red anymore, but black.

He dropped the dirty bandages on the bedside table when Yennefer started to fit. It lasted for several minutes and by the end, the sheets were smeared with blood and Yennefer was unconscious again. He rolled her onto her side and redressed her neck, then he sat back down and watched her breathing fitfully in her unconsciousness.

Orianna has never intended to kill, not tonight. Instead, she’d bitten Yennefer with venomous fangs. What with and how, he didn’t know, but he would fix it. It couldn’t be incurable; nothing was, not if he kept on looking.

* * *

Two apothecaries, a travelling barber-surgeon and three physicians, including the gentleman who served the Duchess, all saw to Yennefer over the next two days, but none of them could do anything for her except help to alleviate the pain. Even Triss, who had teleported in from Kovir the moment she’d received Geralt’s letter about what had happened, couldn’t offer any spells or remedies. Geralt had tried to contact Ciri too, to let her know what was going on, but she was out travelling the Nilfgaardian empire and he doubted anyone would be in a hurry to pass a letter onto her from a witcher. Lambert, who Triss had contacted through Keria, didn’t know anything either and neither he nor Geralt knew where Eskel was.

Each day Yennefer’s condition worsened. She was dry heaving, coughing up blood and fitting while in a constant state of agony curled up on the bed. The only time she got any rest was when she was unconscious and whenever she was awake, Yennefer was usually dazed and confused. She’d barely spoken a word since the attack and hadn’t taken more than a few bites of food. The sickly veins around the bite on her neck had crept across her shoulder, chest and up her neck until they were touching the tip of her jaw and chin.

Geralt had looked for answers in the tomes Regis had left behind in his crypt, but there was nothing there. Nor could Triss or Syanna find anything of use in Toussaint’s library and its old elvish tomes. None of them knew where to turn.

A week came and went without any promising news, and nothing they did could stop the spread of the poison. Yennefer’s body was quickly weakening, and the dark veins grew and grew, until there was nowhere else for them to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Bad-Things-Happen-Bingo Prompt from Feelfreeimdone on Tumblr: poison/venom for Yennefer.


End file.
